


Ain't This A Royal Banquet?

by STEREO_FUTURE



Category: Emilie Autumn (Musician), Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Circus, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fantasy, Gen, Nonsense, Psychosis, Reality Bending, Superpowers, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23735875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/STEREO_FUTURE/pseuds/STEREO_FUTURE
Summary: Nobody believed Ryan's grandiose delusions of being the prince of a circus ring until he is admitted to a mental institution.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Ain't This A Royal Banquet?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it's me, stereo! This is my first and last P!ATD×Emilie Autumn fanfic! Halfway through writing his story, I realized that the people in the middle of the Venn diagram of P!ATD fans and Emilie Autumn fans are so scarce, that we could probably fit in one quarantine house, thus I have no plans for extending this universe, but please enjoy the story!
> 
> If you are a P!ATD fan who wants to check out Emilie Autumn's stuff, I recommend listening to this song: <https://youtu.be/YMkklex2A1g>. For a taste of her live performances: <https://youtu.be/CbY_wqjAtfE>
> 
> If you are a fan of Emilie, and wonder why in the world did I mash them up with P!ATD, please check out this amazing live performance of them from the 2006 Nothing Rhymes With Circus Tour: <https://youtu.be/3vb1jmBxUkE>. I would also recommend listening to this song: <https://youtu.be/CgSYoxtk_oE>.
> 
> That's all. Enjoy!! xo -S//F

Dr. Urie clutches the silken frills of the collar of the now unconscious boy. Enraged, he curses, and his voice echoes on the distressed gold-and-maroon striped walls of his poorly-lit office. Realizing that the patient wouldn't wake up until the sedatives wear off, he lets go of his hold, letting the boy's brown paperboy hat drop to the pale sand beside him. Still staring at the boy's artistically painted face, he presses his hand on his desk to help himself get up, but startles himself as a loud, low, distorted chord blares out. The doctor's desk is a beige off-white grand piano. He violently picks up the phone on the piano, a shiny, expensive-looking, vintage black and gold item, and grunts in frustration as he realizes, after a few presses on the fancy numbers, that it's a rotary dial.

Instead of the usual ring, Dr. Urie hears uptempo accordion playing from the ear piece. Something itches from inside his lab gown. He shrieks in terror as a tiny mouse leaps out of one of the pockets. His lab gown is a rough, golden-brown overcoat, with the tips of its tails hovering a few inches from the ground. Finally, someone from the other end picks up. "Dr. Smith, this is Dr. Urie," he quickly says, trying to stay as focused and calm as possible, "the new patient--"

"What the hell is going on?!" a man shouts on the receiver, "Dr. Urie, I will need an explanation for this!"

"I can't..." Dr. Urie stares at his tattered knee-high boots, "I can't explain what's happened, Dr. Smith."

***

"What do you mean, he just--", Dr. Smith loudly snaps his fingers, "and then, all of a sudden, everything turned into this--", he takes a moment to absorb his surroundings: the tacky chandelier, stage lights on the corners of the room, the patient--whose name on the records is Ryan Ross, twenty years old--in blue, black and silver facepaint, drab Victorian attire of lengths and layers, unconscious and tied up to Dr. Urie's office chair. His office chair is a piano stool. His eyes land on Dr. Urie again and stiffles a chuckle as he sees how ridiculous his face looks, painted like a battered string puppet's. Dr. Smith struggles to find more words, but ends up saying exactly what it looks like, "... this circus?"

"That's exactly what happened, Doctor." Dr. Urie says, in almost a sigh. He is staring blankly at Dr. Smith's terribly painted-on moustache and beard. 

"Why is he unconscious?"

Dr. Urie purses his lips.

"Did you--?"

"I did. I thought it would work. I thought everything would change back to normal if he fell asleep."

"So he wasn't violent towards you?"

Dr. Urie closes his eyes and scratches the back of his head.

Dr. Smith sighs. "This is pathetic, Dr. Urie. What do you suggest we do now?"

The two doctors look at the boy tied up to the office chair. Except that there's only the chair. The rope and the boy are gone.

The ground shakes, and loud thumping ensues. "What was that?" Dr. Urie asks.

***

They look out and see an elephant. Of course, the elephant in the room is the first thing you see, but there are also flying acrobats, fire dancers, clowns juggling bowling pins, and ballerinas scattered throughout. The circus music blaring from the P.A. mixes in with the sounds of amazement and laughter.

"Were they here before you got to my office?" Dr. Urie asks his colleague.

"A few. Those two on the trapeze."

They slowly creep out of the office and into the ring. Dr. Urie wanted to hold someone's hand at that moment, but it would deem awkward and unprofessional. To distract himself from his fear, he tells himself to stay focused. He faces his colleague and asks, "Did you see any of the other doctors?"

"No."

The doctors bump into a person in stilts. "Hey! Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry!" Dr. Urie replies. He looks up to see who owns the pair of legs: a girl with bright orange hair and clown makeup. "Maggie?"

"Hey!" The girl expertly tilts her body down low to see the doctors' faces more clearly, startling them. She still doesn't recognize the two. "Umm... P-puppet?" She chuckles, then starts to leave. "See ya around!"

Dr. Smith and Dr. Urie have lost track of the elephant, so they continue to explore the hall. They recognize all of the carnies as patients of the hospital.

***

Two cats march on their hind legs and enter Wing B. Wing B is a small dining room. That is, _small_ for ridiculously wealthy people who reside in mansions and in castles. They play out a fanfare on their trumpets.

An abnormally massive African elephant that is dressed in bright violet and gold garments makes its entrance into the room. Ryan is wearing a thin golden crown and is seated on a golden chair that is strapped to the back of the elephant.

The cat on Ryan's right side opens her mouth. "Here is the Prince of the Circus! Creator and mastermind! Let us all bow down to his glory!" she says in a loud, screechy voice.

The lass with the fiery hair and sequined silver corset, Emilie, pushes her brunette friend Veronica's shoulder back to stop her from bowing. Emilie stares defiantly into the prince's eyes. "I bow down to no man."

Indifferent, the prince lies on his back comfortably on the golden-framed sofa, looking at Emilie and her friends upside-down, crown tilting. "It's fine. Suit yourself. I just made the place like this because I think it'd be more fun."

He sits upright. "Everyone, be seated." They get up from their stance and take their seats. "May I join your little tea party? I mean, I don't have to ask. I already have a seat."

He slides down from the elephant's trunk, and sinks into the high throne on one end of the long table. An empty teacup gleefully waltzes from the table and into his empty hand. He sips Earl Grey from it and crosses his legs. "So... What do you think?" He scans the room for reactions. "Are the new decorations good? Do you like what you're wearing? I thought you guys might like them."

Nods and hums of genuine approval fill the room.

A girl with wavy chestnut brown hair raises her hand. She is only wearing a red studded brasserie, a frilly beige corset, red and white striped stockings, shoes that might be for dancing, and black underwear.

Ryan addresses her, "Yes, miss?"

"Your majesty, my name is Contessa."

"Yes, Contessa? Are you not satisfied?"

"Oh, your majesty, your refurbishments are wonderful and lovely. But oh, your majesty, could I have a blouse? Oh, and some pantaloons? Please?"

The prince snickers and makes a face. "Panta- _what_?"

She smiles, "Your majesty, _panta--_ " and upon realizing the joke, her smile fades away.

"It's alright. Here you go, love." Contessa is wearing a frilled beige blouse and loose, comfy pants over her other garments.

She folds her hands and bows. "Thank you, your dear, kind highness."

Maggie finally arrives at the room. Stilts still wobbling, she hovers a bit over the table. "C-could someone h-help me down, p-please?"

With just one flick of the prince's hand, the stilts are gone. Maggie shrieks as she falls twenty feet above the ground, the trunk of the elephant catching her at the last moment. The elephant then gently places her, feet upwards, in a seat beside Veronica.

The prince flicks his wrist once more, and in an instant Maggie is sitting upright. But her brains are in her belly and her intestines are in her head. She realizes this, and frightfully stares at everyone in the room. Amused, the prince lets his fingers dance in the air, and her organs are now back to their own places. She laughs uncomfortably, "Heheh! Heh..." The room was silent except for her small, awkward laugh.

Nobody knows why--maybe it was the embarrassment that nobody in the room laughed with her--but she suddenly jolts up, stands on her chair, slashes the air with her cutlass, and points it slowly towards everyone in the room. Something is incomplete, she felt. "Where is my hat!? A captain isn't a Captain without a hat! Who _dare_ took it from _me_ , the Great Captain Maggot!?"

The prince rolls his eyes at this change of attitude, "Sit down already."

Captain Maggot stomps on the edge of the table, chinaware, cutlery and all, with a sword in hand, and charges with full force towards the prince. After three steps, she stumbles. Her legs are glued togther. The sword flies through the air. The sword is a slinky.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk..." The prince shakes his head. Seeing that he couldn't reach the table from where he is sitting, he drops the teacup to the ground next to him, and it shatters into hundreds of tiny pieces. "Captain. You never wore a hat before." Maggie looks at him with pleading eyes. "But since you're, uhh, adorable," a massive pirate hat hangs unsteady from his hand, "I could give this to you. But promise me that you'll behave." Maggie nods, sobbing quietly. He throws the hat on her face, and she yelps in pain.

Veronica stands up from her seat. "Don't be so cruel to my friend!"

"But she ruined the party." He waves his hand. Captain Maggot is quietly sitting down on her chair. The tablecloth is clean, and the plates and cups are perfectly aligned. 

"Hats for everyone!" The prince announces, and claps twice. Emilie is wearing a white felt top hat. Veronica is wearing a huge, pink fascinator. She sits back down. Dan is wearing a bowler hat. Emerson is wearing a black feathered top hat. Contessa is wearing a headdress stitched with dozens of diamonds. Except for Emilie, who isn't excited with this at all, they pick up the looking glass in front of them and exclaim in awe.

***

Footsteps (or _bootsteps_ in Ryan's mind) click louder and louder towards the room. Ryan and the guests turn around to see Dr. Urie and Dr. Smith, still in their carnie attire.

"Wow," the prince says in a monotonous voice, "you fools have finally found me." One of the cats leap seventeen feet up in the air and into the prince's lap. "Take your seats," the prince orders. Dr. Urie and Dr. Smith are sitting across each other, a few meters away from the throne. Dr. Urie catches his breath, clearly not used to being instantaneously juxtaposed from one place and position to another.

Dr. Urie composes himself and speaks up, "Ryan--"

"Nuh-uh-uh, Puppet!" the prince wags his fingers. "Call me Prince Saint Messiah."

"Wha--?" Dr. Urie raises an eyebrow. "P-Prince Saint..." Dr. Urie stutters. Ryan chuckles heartily, mouth in his hand. The people in the party join in the laughter, except for the two doctors.

"You fool! How would you address royalty? _Your majesty_ , of course!" Mocking laughter continues to fill the room.

Dr. Urie stands his ground. He can't let a patient disrespect him, not even if the patient isn't right in the head. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because it's fun! I have friends now. I never had any friends before."

"But you could still make friends without turning the hospital into--"

"Hold it, I retract my answer." Ryan cuts off the doctor's words. "Could I retract my answer?" He waits for a response, but doesn't get any. "I did this because you dared me to. It's kind of your fault, Mr. Doctor Brendon Urie. You should've just followed along and maybe pretended to believe in my words. But you _had_ to go there."

As tension builds up in the air, everybody takes a sip of their tea. Not all of it is tea, though. For instance, Emerson's cup is filled with absinthe. Maggie's cup of tea is mixed with rum and rat piss.

Ryan now places his attention to the other doctor. "Do you like this place, Dr. Smith? Be honest."

Dr. Smith formulates his words. If he doesn't tread carefully, he will have to face some unpleasant consequences. "I like this place. I like it because I can help people like you to become healthy and happy individuals."

"Such a laugh!" The prince giggles and claps in amusement. The guests--except for Emilie--follow suit. "The typical shrink! What I meant was, do you like how I redecorated your office? You know, the aesthetic? The colors? The lights?"

Humiliated, Dr. Smith doesn't speak a word.

"Do you want to see it once more, so you could form a professional opinion?" The prince stands up on the seat of his throne, and turns to the rest of his guests. A huge white single-layered cake appears in the middle of the table. The other cat leaps up and slices it. "Ladies and gentlemen, indulge. I shall be right back."

A spotlight temporarily blinds the two doctors. They find themselves walking across the hall, with Ryan leading them. The prince shouts to the fire-eating, spine-contorting, stilt-walking crowd through a megaphone, "Is everyone having fun?" They cheer and whistle with glee. He smiles, satisfied.

Ryan stops walking and faces the two doctors. "As you can see, they like it here. But not all of them. The red-haired girl named Emilie wants to escape." He turns around and keeps walking, the two doctors following him. He faces them again. "I'm not giving you a headstart. I just don't want you to wonder about it too much before you die." And with that, he leaves the two doctors behind metal bars, along with the other physicians.

***

Dr. Smith worriedly turns to the people behind him. "Are you alright?"

The rest of the doctors place a finger on their lips and shushes them. They point to the dark corner of the cage. A huge sun bear is sleeping. Dr. Smith gulps audibly.

"Wasn't he your patient?" Dr. Walker asks Dr. Urie. He is wearing a black blazer, off-white frills, styled pants and black boots. For some reason, he is the only one who doesn't have any makeup on.

"That kid Ryan? Yeah. His records say he's had several episodes of grandiose delusions. But it all turned out to be true!"

Dr. Walker sighs. "Well, we better get out of here."

Guilt creeps into Dr. Urie's heart, so he takes initiative and examines the metal bars. As he shuffles with the chains, the sun bear turns to its side. Luckily, it hasn't woken up.

A nurse in a white tutu whispers, "We're doomed."

***

Ryan wanted to take a moment to behold the wonderful circus he had created, so he sits against the wall of the hall, petting the cat in his lap while enjoying the show.

Meanwhile, Emilie conspires with the guests of the tea party. "Do not be distracted. We still need to escape this place."

Maggie argues, "But we like it here now!"

Emilie rebutts, "He glued your knees together and threw a hat in your face! He's not a good prince, Captain Maggots. He treats us badly. Do you want that to happen again?"

Contessa pleads, "The prince has locked up Dr. Stone. He can't hurt us now, Emilie."

"He humiliated you, Blessed Contessa. I'm sure you felt bad when this so-called prince looked down on you." She puffs out her chest and lifts her chin. "We need to stay focused. Who's still with me?"

They were hesitant at first, but after a while, all six patients have their fists up and their full support for Emilie's goal.

Emilie takes out her diary and red crayon and writes the things that occurred within the last few hours.

***

Ryan enters the dining room once more, now with seven other patients walking behind him. He makes them line up side by side next to the elephant. "You guys stay right there for a while."

The prince is sitting on his throne, and most of the guests courtsy and smile at him.

"Contessa," he muses. She smiles at him, one side of her mouth higher than the other. "Blessed indeed." He shifts himself around with some effort to raise his boots on the back of his high throne, while still facing the table. He finds the sensation of blood rushing to his head pleasant and relaxing. "What's your favorite part?"

She gasps. "The thigh!"

"Alright," says the prince. A loud scream erupts from the jail cell. Everyone--except for Contessa and the prince--becomes alarmed. "How would you like it? Medium rare? Well done?" the prince continues to ask, his voice almost being drowned out by the agonized wailing from the other room.

Contessa giggles, "Well done!" And with that, a tiny slice of roasted human thigh sits on the plate in front of her. The rest of the guests look away in disgust.

The prince blinks, and the screaming stops.

"What would you ladies like to have with your tea?" the prince asks. "Oh, wait, don't tell me, I'll guess. Scones?" A mountain of crumpets appear on the table. "Or! Crumpets!" A huge heap of scones appear next to the crumpets. "Hmm. I never really knew the difference between those two... Anyway, let's dig in!"

"Oh, your majesty," The Blessed Contessa interrupts, "we need to say our prayers first."

The prince, growing more and more fond of her, agrees, "Sure!"

Everybody folds their hands in front of them and closes their eyes. "Please. Repeat after me, and put your delicious fingers together. Dear Divine Above..."

"Dear Divine Above," everyone says. Veronica quietly reaches up to grab a crumpet, but the prince catches her. She seductively puts her finger to her mouth, expressing bashful guilt. He flirts back and winks at her. Veronica's hair is wavy golden yellow. Nobody notices the change, as they are all focused on the prayer, except for Emilie, who wasn't really praying. He makes a face. Veronica's hair is straight, black and long again. Contessa continues, "Please bless those..."

"Please bless those."

"Who lie on the backs of elephants..."

The prince takes delight in being blessed first. "Who lie on the backs elephants."

***

Contessa's prayer went on for ten minutes. Afterwards, they finally take a bite of their treats.

The prince clears his throat. "Emilie. I sense unhappiness within you." He already knows the answer, but still asks, "What is it that you wish to have?"

Emilie thinks it would be best to be honest right now. "Freedom. I want to break free from this hell."

"So do they." He refers to the _"sane"_ patients he had gathered up on the side of the room. The prince sighs. "I don't know why you still want to escape. I already made this a safe and fun place for all of you. But if you insist, I want to help out."

The prince whispers either in Emilie's ear, or in her mind, she cannot tell. "For a price. You have to give me something I want."

"What do you want?" She asks in a low voice.

"I'm not telling you until we get to the exit. Don't worry. It's just a tiny, little thing."

***

One of the patients complains, "Why do we have to go through these floors and tunnels? Why can't you just teleport us outside?"

Ryan crosses his arms. "So you're sane _and_ stupid. Come on, pick a struggle." Ryan spits on the corner. His spit is a fluffy white bunny, hopping away. "Of course, you have do things _my_ way."

They finally reach the gates. "Here's the key. You're all free."

One of them grabs the key from Ryan's hand and unlocks the gate. They run, enjoying their newfound freedom. Emilie runs with the crowd. But then Emilie involuntarily runs backwards, and her hand is caught by the prince.

"Let me go!"

"No," the prince says, "You have to give me the book."

"Definitely not! The world needs to know about this! Everything that's going on in this place!"

"Give. Me. The book." he asks more demandingly.

"I said no!"

Contessa and Veronica go back to check up on her. "Emilie! We have to go!"

The prince faces them. "You ladies go ahead," and waves them off. They are far outside of the premises. Ryan and Emilie are back in the reception area of the hospital. The reception area is an ring-tossing game booth.

Ryan has the power to acquire Emilie's book without any effort. But he wants her to _give_ it to him. Emilie feels her hand--the one that's holding her diary--being pulled towards him by an invisible force. He gets bored and snatches it from her.

He tosses the book into the air. Emilie fails to grab it. The book is a thousand white butterflies. Delicate wings fluttering towards all directions.

She lunges at him. She is stronger than the prince thought, and not for long, her hands are around the boy's throat. She screams, hot breath hitting his face. "Why did you do that!?"

The crown falls from his head and into the sand. He laughs a boisterous laugh. It has been fourteen years since he laughed that freely. He looks in her eyes and answers, "Simply because I can." Her grip becomes tighter. She growls at him. He keeps laughing. Until he wheezes. And the laughing stops.

The music dies. The walls are all white again. Emilie feels a hand grabbing her arm.

-END-


End file.
